


Final Wish

by Singing_Violin



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Friendship, Romance, Spiritual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-25
Packaged: 2018-01-09 22:57:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1151804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Singing_Violin/pseuds/Singing_Violin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Janeway's dying wish comes true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Final Wish

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: The Star Trek characters and universe are not mine.

Kathryn Janeway had one final wish. She didn't want to die alone.

It had been a long life, a good life. But she was tired, and most of the people she'd cared about had already passed. Their descendants were still alive, but they didn't know her. She'd long since retired and disappeared from the public eye. Her sole companion, now, was _Voyager_ 's Mark One EMH, who would have looked exactly the same as when she had first met him, but for his "sympathy" subroutine that allowed him to appear to age with the rest of his colleagues. For her, he appeared a wizened old man, but his step was spry, his program nearly identical to the one she'd activated so long ago. And to be honest, while his program had grown, and he was arguably a sentient being, she found his company not exactly what she had hoped for.

In truth, there was only one person she wanted to be with in her final moments, but she hadn't seen that person in many years. She sighed, remembering him, remembering the time they spent together, and the time she lived without him in her life. She missed him terribly.

She looked around her room. The upholstery was faded almost to oblivion, the patterns that once so boldly stood against the background all but disappearing into it now. The curtains, once so vibrant, were muted, and drawn so as not to let in too much light, as her eyes were sensitive now. Dusty paper books sat, untouched for years, on the shelves of her bookcases, and she thought it fitting that, although she had spent most of her life among the stars, she would die surrounded by the words that had made it all possible, that had expressed people's dreams, allowed people to reach the stars long before they had warp drive.

Then, unexpectedly, especially as the hour was so late, she heard a knock at the door.

"Come in," she rasped, her voice all but vanished into oblivion along with the pattern on the armchair.

Then, he entered, and she found her mouth spreading into a wide grin she hadn't formed in too long to recall. He smiled right back at her, his dimpled cheeks seeming to sparkle amidst his dull surroundings.

"Chakotay!" she breathed. "You came!"

He was as lovely as she remembered, inside and out. He came beside the bed and sat down next to her, taking her hand in his. "Of course," he replied steadily. "Of course I came."

She smiled again, this time warmly and without surprise. "Of course you did," she echoed. "You always come."

He bent down then and kissed her forehead before brushing white hair away from her eyes. "You're so beautiful," he remarked. "You've always been beautiful."

There wasn't much blush left in her, but she felt it color her cheeks, just for a moment. "So have you."

"Is there anything I can get you? Do for you?" he asked, his large hand still on the side of her head, his fingers tangled in her thinning hair.

She thought for a moment. "Would you mind opening the curtains?" she asked. "I'd like to see the stars."

He nodded, rose, and did as she bade, and she relaxed against her pillow, reveling in the sight she'd enjoyed for as long as she could remember. Still standing, he asked, "Anything else?"

She pondered again, then realized the one thing, besides him, that she was desperately missing. "Coffee," she breathed shallowly. Then, slightly stronger, "I'd love a cup of fresh coffee."

He disappeared then, and returned a moment later with the requested item. He set it upon the nightstand and reached behind her to help her sit up so she could drink it. He used pillows to prop her up, then resumed his place by her side, handing her the steaming mug. She'd assumed he'd gone to the replicator, but it smelled divine, just as if it had been freshly brewed.

She closed her eyes in ecstasy, trying to commit this feeling to memory. Her favorite drink, her favorite view, and her favorite person. She had everything she needed.

He just sat and watched her inhale the scent of the beverage in her trembling hands. He did not reach out to steady the cup, nor did she spill any, despite the fact that she wasn't actually drinking it. She hadn't tasted coffee in years, and was almost afraid to indulge…

"It's okay," he reassured her, seeming to have read her thoughts. "You can taste. It won't hurt you."

Gingerly, she sipped, and swirled a bit around on her tongue. Ah yes, she'd missed this. She wondered, briefly, why she'd ever given it up.

Again, he answered her unspoken thoughts. "Because you wouldn't still be here, now, if you'd kept it up."

That brought another grin to her face. "When did you get so wise?"

He smirked slightly, smugly. "I've always been wise. That's why you sought me out for counsel, why you made me your first officer."

Her face fell, and he playfully patted her arm. "You were quite wise yourself, my woman warrior."

Her breath caught in her throat then, and she choked back a sob, remembering that conversation so many, many years ago. Still, she had a witty reply, emitted with a rasping breath. "Were?"

Now Chakotay was rubbing the back of her hand. "Still are," he amended, the banter reminding him of another special time they'd shared together, alone in a shuttlecraft, on what was intended to be a routine mission, but turned out to be anything but.

He could tell that she was remembering, too, and suddenly he saw fear flicker in her eyes. "I'm scared," she admitted, knowing she wouldn't dare admit that to any other person, or at any other time.

He bent down and kissed her forehead. "That's natural," he told her. "It's okay. You don't have to go now. You can stay as long as you'd like."

She relaxed again then, falling back against the pillows, and he grabbed the still-full cup from her hands and deftly placed it back upon the nightstand. "You know I can't."

He squeezed her hand. "I'll stay," he promised. "For as long as you want."

She looked over at the window and spoke again. "Let me just have one last look at the stars. I want to leave with them in my eyes."

He stroked her arm as her stare froze in place.

And then she was looking at him again. "I'm ready," she said.

"I know," he answered. Then he gathered her into his arms and gave her a gentle squeeze. She stood up then and walked back towards the window. It felt good to be mobile again, and she looked back to gaze upon her room one last time.

The stars in the window were the same, but the room seemed to blossom with color once more. The patterns on the chair and curtain were bright and cheery, and the books were no longer dusty…in fact, one lay open upon her desk, an old favorite: _La Vita Nuova_.

Suddenly she panicked, afraid that her companion had left, but as her gaze traveled, she found him once again at her side. Something occurred to her then. "Why did you come?"

He shrugged. "You wanted me to. Why me? Why not Mark, or Justin, or your mother?"

She noticed that he hadn't mentioned her father as a possibility, and knew with certainty that this was not another illusion like the one she had experienced while dying in this man's arms. "It's always been you," she told him, and he didn't answer, because he already knew.

Instead, he bent down to kiss her, and as his lips pressed against hers, she knew an overwhelming peace that she had never before experienced. This was bliss.

A few moments later, _Voyager_ 's Mark One EMH reverted to his usual form upon finding his patient deceased. Carefully, he used his holographic fingers to close her eyes. He mimicked a sigh, realizing that her passing was his last connection to the ship on which he had been, in essence, born.

"It has been a pleasure serving with you, Captain," he spoke to the empty room, a holographic tear escaping his photonic eye. "I hope you have found what you were looking for."

He noticed, then, that she had been propped up by a mound of pillows, but that he had no record in his subroutines of creating that mound. He knew for certain that at her advanced age and condition she would have been unable to do it herself. He made a note in his runtime log to perform a self-diagnostic at the earliest opportunity as he began preparing the body for autopsy and burial.

He paused when he noticed the book lying open upon the table, and took it upon himself to read aloud the words, instantly recognizing them as words he had read another time, a lifetime ago, when the woman in the room had also been ill, but not terminally so:

" _In that book which is my memory,  
On the first page of the chapter that is the day when I first met you_,  
 _Appear the words, 'Here begins a new life.'_ "

Unbeknownst to the Doctor, his former commanding officers were standing, hand in hand, watching him as he read, smiling as they observed the last remaining member of their crew, knowing he would be around a long time to carry on their memories. They were free, finally, to bask in a newfound light…and in each other.

_Fin._

**Author's Note:**

> Author's note: People have asked about the autopsy. The Doctor does plan to perform an autopsy on the body. There are many potential reasons for this. My thought was that autopsies are done routinely once the technology is advanced enough so that the autopsy procedure is not invasive and does not damage the body, as it can be done entirely with scans. You never know what you might find. But even if it's not routine, Kathryn Janeway would want people to learn anything they could from examination of her body after her death. It's her last gift to science.


End file.
